


take me so breathless

by golden_geese



Series: starlight, starcrossed [2]
Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Everything Is Reset In Sunny, M/M, anyway, bc spoiler alert, btw mac finds his pride killed me, dennis' double life, hope this is a worthy sequel, how amazing was that omfg, i hate fics in first perosn, i usually write in present tense first person but uh, i write in present tense now, idk why anyone does that shit its werid and uncomf, im trying to follow the constraints set by the narrative, like are they exclusive? are they together? they don't know, mac and dennis still dont know exactly how their relationship is supposed to be, no real progress was made in the original starlight starcrossed, so that's fresh, so this is in 3rd person but its in present tense bc thats the tea, tw: alcohol abuse, tw: dennis is mean to mac :/, tw: intrusive thoughts, u should prob read starlight starcrossed before this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-21 00:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16565759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/golden_geese/pseuds/golden_geese
Summary: in starlight, starcrossed you watched two idiots reconcile with the fact that they've actually been married for ten years. now watch those same idiots try to figure out how to move forward when it turns out one of them has a son.





	1. all the eggshells are on the ground

**Author's Note:**

> read starlight, starcrossed first!

6:06 am  
A Thursday

Dennis can’t compartmentalize his way out of this anymore.

It’s too late, he keeps thinking as he stares hard at the ceiling. It’s too late it’s too late it’s too late. He absolutely has to tell Mac. The deadline isn’t just approaching. It’s here. Shit, it’s not even really here. It’s passed.

He sets his jaw. Checks his phone. They’ll be high in the sky by now. He has a fake identity to uphold and a real best friend/roommate/love of his life/whatever to break the news to. And a son to meet.

He hears movement outside his room. Hears Mac’s sleepy feet against the linoleum. Hears his door creak open.

He props himself up on elbows, squinting through the first dregs of morning light as he regards his roommate. 

They hold each others’ sleepy eyes for a moment. Mac’s hair is messy, sticking straight up in places. His tee shirt is a little crooked. His eyelids are drooping over his soft brown eyes. 

“Hi,” Dennis says, yawning.

“Hey,” Mac says. He yawns too.

“What’s up?”

“What d’you mean?”

“It’s not even seven in the morning, I’m still half asleep, and you’re standing in my doorway?”

Dennis isn’t half asleep. He wasn’t ever really fully asleep. He was mostly up all night worrying about the situation today would bring.

“I, uh… look, wanna bang?”

Dennis almost laughs. If he were in a different mood, he would have laughed. He blinks again.

“No,” he says. “But you can come here if you want.”

Mac nods once, his hair flopping, and shuts the door behind him. He gets in the other side of Dennis’ bed. Surveillance footage to delete. Why does he even still have this system running? He doesn’t even remember the last time he had sex with a woman. It’s been a while.

Mac settles in the bed, trying to be sneaky about nudging himself toward Dennis. Dennis doesn’t react. Stays still. Goes back to staring at the ceiling. He doesn’t remember the last time he had sex with someone who wasn’t Mac, is the truth of it.

He’s known he has a son since the beginning, but he’s never looked the kid in the face. Never even been in the same state. Never picked him up or changed a diaper or fed him. Do two year olds still need diapers? He doesn’t know. He should nominate himself for World’s Worst Dad. Is it even his kid, he wonders for a moment. He didn’t demand a DNA test. He just trusted Mandy. Listened to her half-embarrassed explanation of how she never has one night stands, how she had just been on a terrible date and she was too drunk, how she wasn’t that kind of person. Dennis lied right back. Called himself Brian Le Fevre because the name was bouncing around his head. Didn’t remember giving this girl his phone number in the first place when she called to tell him she was pregnant.

He has to tell Dee and Frank and Charlie too, he realizes. Surely Mandy will want to meet them.

Realizes he and Mac are going to both have to sleep in Mac’s room so Mandy can sleep in his room. Realizes Mac might be so mad about the kid thing he goes to stay with Dee. Imagines himself going to bed alone in Mac’s perpetually unmade bed with a bunch of Jesus pictures staring down his sins.

But it was like three years ago, he reasons. He and Mac were 90% Just Friends that year. It was still the territory of shameful drunk-only sex after their weird stint as almost daily fuck buddies a few years prior-- until, anyway, Dee caught them red-handed and Mac called it off. No more sober sex. Definitely no more daily sex. They moved back into being friends who drunkenly slept together a couple times a year.

But now-- the transition was far less obvious than it was back during the daily sex year, but it was more intense. More of a relationship. Even though it wasn’t. Isn’t. It’s still just two friends having sex. There just might be some more feelings trapped inside it. A little bit of hand-holding and snuggling and non-sex kissing thrown in. 

Mac loves him. He knows it. Mac understands him better than anyone else in the whole world. But this-- this might still piss him off. Or even if he isn’t outwardly angry, it still might change absolutely everything between them. It might make this version of Mac and Dennis into ghosts.

Hesitantly, he puts his arm around Mac. Doesn’t know how Mac will react when he hears. Doesn’t know when his next opportunity will be.

Pleased, Mac snuggles against him. Presses his lips against Dennis’ stubbly neck for a second. A lazy morning kiss.

He closes his eyes. The alarm won’t go off for a while. He can tell Mac then. He’ll make Mac a piece of toast with peanut butter and then he’ll just casually tell him he has a child. Yeah. Great.

He sighs.

+

The alarm goes off. He didn’t fall back asleep-- couldn’t possibly-- but Mac did. And now Mac is exhaling slowly like he always does when he wakes up-- rubbing his eyes. Yawning. Dennis yawns too.

“Morning,” Mac says.

“Morning,” Dennis repeats.

“D’you wanna bang really quick now?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Slowly, sleepily, Mac sits up. Stretches. “I’m gonna shower.”

“Okay,” Dennis repeats.

He watches Mac leave his room. Rubs at his face.

He gets up. Goes into his bathroom. Showers, shaves, brushes his teeth. Tries to ignore the pit in his stomach. There’s no avoiding this. 

He goes back into his room to get dressed. As he’s buttoning his shirt up he realizes he should put his bedding in the wash so it will be fresh for Mandy and Brian to sleep in. 

God. What kind of woman keeps a one-night-stand baby and then names said baby after its one-night-stand dad?

He shimmies the duvet out of its cover. Rips the sheets off the corners of his bed, and the pillowcases. Carries the wad toward their washer.

“Whatcha doin?” Mac asks, wandering out of his room, still pulling his shirt on.

“Washing my bedding,” Dennis answers.

“But we gotta go to work, you’re not going to have time to stay and put it in the dryer.”

Dennis’ shoulders shift uncomfortably. He puts the bedding in the washer and tosses in two Tide pods for good measure. “Well… I guess I’ll just change it over when I can.” 

His heart is thumping. He doesn’t feel well. He imagines himself going back to bed. Or just shedding his skin and becoming nothing.

“Are you okay, Den?”

“Why?”

“Your eyes are all shifty and you keep squirming.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, bud, you do. Is something going on?”

He shifts his weight to his other foot. Turns toward the kitchen; heads in to make coffee. “I’m fine, Mac.”

“Okay, man. If you’re sure.”

He yanks on the detachable tap and fills the coffee machine with it. Adds the coffee grounds in a filter.

“Mac,” he says.

“Yeah, dude.”

“Sit down.”

Mac does as he asks. 

“I have to tell you something,” he says.

“Okay. What?”

Dennis’ jaw tightens. For a second he can’t coax it toward language. Manages to eventually. “This girl is coming today,” he says.

“Uh… okay?”

“She’s going to stay here. In my room. So I need to stay in your room with you.”

No response. He risks a glance over his shoulder-- Mac is just looking at him, eyes a little squinty. “Who’s the girl? Why’s she staying here? Why are you having a girl stay over if you aren’t even going to sleep with her?”

“Jesus,” Dennis mutters. “That’s-- it’s just the way it is, okay? She’s going to sleep in my room without me. That’s why I’m washing the bedding.”

“Is she like… a cousin or something?”

“No.”

“Then who…?”

“For fuck’s sake. Can we stop with the questions? Can we please stop with the questions? I’ll explain it to you, I’m just taking my time,” Dennis snaps, fist hard around the handle of his empty coffee cup.

“Dude, calm down,” Mac says, standing up.

“Sit down, I have to explain it!”

Mac sits down.

Dennis exhales hard. “Her name is Mandy.”

“Okay.”

“And she… I… when we did the Wade Boggs thing.”

“Yeah.”

“And I got off the plane in North Dakota.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I banged a girl at Applebee’s, goddammit. This is her.”

“So your one night stand from like three years ago is… visiting you?” Mac hazards.

Dennis huffs again. Pushes his hair back. “I knocked her up, okay? So she’s bringing the kid to Philly so I can meet him. Okay? _Is that enough information for you?”_

“I didn’t fucking ask, Dennis, don’t act like I’m prying secrets out of you,” Mac says, his voice getting louder. “You have a _kid_? How long have you known?”

He leans against the counter. Avoids Mac’s eyes at all costs. “Since before he was born. She told me when she found out. We’ve been in touch ever since. She sends me pictures and shit.”

“What’s… his name?”

“Brian Jr.”

“Brian Jr,” Mac repeats. “Who’s Brian senior?”

Dennis sighs, eyes closing for a moment. “Me,” he says. “I told her my name is Brian Le Fevre.”

Mac blinks. Dennis can see out of the corner of his eye. “You pretended to be that dead guy you impersonated that one time? Why?”

“I don’t know. I always give one night stands fake names. I didn’t think it would matter. I didn’t think we would accidentally make a baby. Or, goddammit, that she would name him after me.”

“Damn, dude,” Mac says under his breath.

“Are you mad?” Dennis demands.

“What?”

“Are. You. Mad.”

“No,” Mac says, tone confused. “Why would I be?”

Dennis shrugs. The coffee maker beeps. He pours some into his cup; drinks it even though it’s piping hot.

“I wish you’d told me,” Mac says. “At least like… before the day they’re coming… but I mean… whatever, I guess. Uh. Does she know about… me?”

“Why would I admit to her that I’m a forty-year-old man who still has a roommate?” Dennis demands.

Mac wilts a tiny bit. Stuffs his hands in his pocket. “I don’t know, Dennis. Whatever. Let’s just go to work, okay?”

Dennis takes another burning sip of coffee before dumping the rest into a travel mug. Spilling splatters on the counter. 

He drives them to Paddy’s in silence.


	2. got me so locked away again

10:43 am  
A Thursday

He’s going to superglue a bunch of felt to the bottoms of every stool in the pub, he thinks to himself, his hands fisting as another customer scoots their stool against the islands of peanut shells on the floor. 

“Charlie,” he says, glancing at the time on his phone. He needs to go in a minute.

“Yeah, man?”

“How about sweeping the floor every once in a while?”

“I sweep up all the time, dude, I dunno what you’re talking about. I swept like a week ago.”

Dennis sets his jaw tight for a moment before he speaks. “Well, maybe you should sweep the floor again.”

“I’ll sweep the floor again when I decide it needs to be swept, man. I’m the janitor. This isn’t your jurisdiction,” Charlie babbles, probably guessing the definition of jurisdiction based on pure luck.

Dennis wants to throw something at him for a moment. Instead, he asks another question. “Where’s Mac?”

“Dunno,” Charlie says, turning back to the crack in one of the booths. He pulls a length of duct tape of the roll. Dennis cringes at the ripping sound. “I’d think you’d know where he went off to. Since you’re together all the time.”

“I’m not his keeper,” Dennis says, an edge to his tone. “We got married as a joke.”

The more he says this, the more he feels like a petulant child yelling about how it’s his turn with the TV.

“Whatever, dude,” Charlie says, sticking the tape down on the cracked vinyl. 

He looks at the time on his phone again. He has to leave. He pretty much has to leave now or he won’t make it in time. 

He swallows hard.

“Charlie.”

“What, dude?”

“I have to go somewhere.” He’s already putting his jacket on, taking his keys out of his pocket. 

“I don’t care, man,” Charlie says, tone almost frustrated. He puts a second layer of duct tape over the cracked vinyl. He’s doing a shitty job.

Dennis blows air out of his nose hard. Leaves before he gets more annoyed with Charlie for no reason.

It takes around fifteen minutes to drive to the airport, and it’s late morning on a weekday, so there shouldn’t be any extra traffic, Dennis thinks as he starts the Range Rover-- but there _is_ extra traffic. He scratches through it as best he can, and he’s still almost ten minutes late when he gets to the airport, his knuckles white around the steering wheel.

He gets out of the car. Takes one last drag off his cigarette butt before dropping it and smushing it with the toe of his sneaker. He doesn’t smoke much anymore, but he needed, desperately, something to calm his nerves. 

He doesn’t even remember what Mandy looks like. Doesn’t know how he’s going to spot her in this mess of people.

He’s going to have to explain this to his stupid sister and Charlie and Frank, he remembers. He meant to before he had to leave. Meant to, but didn’t. He blinks slowly. Heads into the damn airport. He’s late. He hasn’t even met his son and he’s already a terrible dad.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He digs it out. 

[TEXT FROM MANDY]: Sorry to keep you waiting! Our flight was a few minutes delayed so we just barely landed. Going to be a few minutes before we can get over to you.

He reads it twice to make sure he understands. Understands that somehow, even though he fucked up, he didn’t actually really fuck up.

[TEXT TO MANDY]: No problem. I’m waiting by the baggage claim.

He bites his lip hard. It’s only a matter of time before he ruins this. He might as well just scare her off on purpose. Middle-Americans are afraid of their kids turning gay, right? Dennis can easily pretend to be gay. Conveniently, he even has a husband, should the need for one arise. A scary gay man with a shitty bar and an unstable income. That’s perfect, right? There’s no way she would want to stick around a guy like that. She’ll be on the first plane out tomorrow morning, he reasons, and she’ll stop sending him pictures.

Really, he’d thought he’d gotten rid of her when he kept making excuses about why he couldn’t come to North Dakota to see Brian Jr. But she just accepted his excuses as truth and then one day told him she found a great deal on plane tickets and she was booking a trip to bring Brian over. She’s too good. She’s such a different breed. 

He forces his shoulders down, his chin up. Whatever. Too late for… whatever. She and Brian will be coming down the escalator any minute now, and he’ll just have to face them.

He wants another cigarette. He wants a beer. He wants something else he can’t quite put his finger on.


	3. the things they say could restore me

11:00 am  
A Thursday

He parks down the street from the bar. Stands uselessly as Mandy unbuckles Brian Jr. from his car seat, which she brought from home. She didn’t bother asking Dennis if he had gotten one. Just assumed she needed to make it happen herself.

(He hadn’t, anyway.)

“So you’re the owner of the bar, right?” She asks cheerfully as she scoops the toddler up. Dennis accidentally meets the kid’s wide brown eyes. He’s... pretty damn cute. Dennis looks away.

“Yeah,” he says. “I bought it right after college with a couple friends. You’ll meet them. Mac and Charlie. And my sister, you know, Prudence, she works with us too-- and my dad Frank.”

Frank isn’t Dennis’ dad. He’s known this for more than a decade. He doesn’t know why he’s putting on airs for Mandy. Why he’s continuing to lie to her. Whatever. It’s fine. Surely after getting a taste of Dennis’ life she’ll be calling the airport to get on an earlier flight anyway.

When they make it to the bar, Dennis grits his teeth hard for a second before opening the door.

Mac is still gone.

“Uh-- Prudence,” Dennis says, making eyes at his sister to tell her to play along. She gets it, raising an eyebrow in such a slight movement that it isn’t likely anyone other than Dennis would notice. “This is Mandy. Mandy-- my twin sister Prudence.”

“Hi,” Dee says, hopping off her stool to come shake Mandy’s hand. “Prudence Le Fevre. I’ve heard so much about you.” 

“So nice to finally meet you,” Mandy says, smiling. She turns toward Brian Jr. for a moment. Dee shoots Dennis a ‘what the fuck’ glance. He shrugs it off. At least she remembers who Prudence is.

“Cute kid,” Dee says, stepping back a pace or two.

“Hasn’t Brian shown you pictures of him before?” Mandy asks, setting the toddler down so he can stand by himself. 

“Yes, of course I have,” Dennis cuts in, laughing a little uncomfortably. “Of course. Every-- every single picture you send me, I show my sister, ‘cause-- ‘cause we’re close.”

“Guys, we got spiders,” comes Charlie’s voice from across the bar. He’s coming toward them. Dennis all but sprints to meet him halfway.

“Charlie, call me Brian, okay? I’m Brian and Dee is Prudence.”

“Who’m I?”

“You’re Charlie.”

“Are you sure? I could come up with a really neat codename, man,” Charlie whispers back.

“Charlie, come meet Mandy and my son, Brian Jr.,” Dennis says loudly, clapping Charlie on the shoulder and leading him over to the others. “Mandy, this is my old friend Charlie Kelly.”

“Uh, hi,” Charlie says, taken aback.

“Where’s Dad?” Dennis asks, turning back to Dee.

She blinks. “Dad?”

“Yeah, silly, Dad! Our dad! Frank… Frank Le Fevre.” He turns to Mandy, grinning like a monster. “Ha, my sister, she’s-- she’s such a joker. She’s hilarious.”

“Uh, _Dad_ is in the back office, I think,” Dee says. 

“I’ll go get him. Mandy, go ahead and take a seat, anywhere-- Prudence, will you get her a drink or something, show a little hospitality, for Christ’s sake-- I’ll be right back,” Dennis says as his feet carry him to the back office. His words are coming out in an unnatural, half-staccato laugh. Now that this is actually happening, he’s starting to really hate it. And where the _fuck_ is Mac?

He opens the door. Slips into the room; pulls it shut. “Frank.”

“What?”

“There’s a girl here,” he says. “Her name’s Mandy. Don’t worry about it. But you gotta pretend to be my dad.”

“No problem,” Frank says. “I pretended to be your dad for thirty years.”

“Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. You’re my dad and your name is Frank Le Fevre.”

“Giovanni Le Fevre,” Frank suggests.

“No. Just Frank. Don’t-- don’t tell her your name is Giovanni. Just be normal.”

“Okay. Fine. Am I Deandra’s dad too in this scheme?”

It’s not a scheme, he doesn’t say. “Yes. But her name’s Prudence. And I’m Brian. Don’t fuck this up, okay, man? Come on.”

He leads Frank back out into the pub, where Mandy is sitting in front of an untouched beer, holding Brian Jr. in her lap. Dennis can scarcely stand to look at the kid. He has to just pretend it isn’t his, he decides. Because everyone elses’ kids, he doesn’t give a shit about. His own kid, though, he hasn’t figured out his feelings for.

“This is my dad Frank Le Fevre,” he announces unnaturally as they make their way back to the bar. “Dad, this is Mandy and Brian Jr.”

“Brian Jr.,” Frank repeats loudly. “Ohhh! Hi!”

God damn these idiots and their terrible lying, Dennis thinks bitterly, not bothering to blame himself for springing this on them last-minute.

“Yeah! Do we know where Mac went?” He asks. “Is he-- is he downstairs, or…?”

“He went to buy limes, I think,” Dee comments. “But that was a while ago.”

Limes. Limes. He went to buy limes. _Limes._ They have plenty of limes. They have bags of vacuum-sealed limes in the keg room. Limes are the last thing they need. They might even have _too many limes._

“Is that right,” Dennis half-laughs. “That… little stinker. Let’s head on back to my place, Mandy, so you two can get settled in.”

“Yeah, isn’t this a bar? We shouldn’t have Brian Jr. in a bar,” she comments. Is she this fucking _pleasant_ all the time? Does she just wake up smiling and being nice to people every day of her life? He doesn’t remember her at all from the time they met. He got so drunk that day, he browned out a good chunk of what happened. Doesn’t even remember the sex. Just remembers how he felt afterwards, when he realized he’d banged a girl with the number 21 scrawled on his forehead in Mac’s handwriting.

(Remembers the way Mac said “Wait, Dennis, don’t go” as he was getting off the plane. Remembers how he almost just fucking went right back to his seat. Remembers the weird nausea he felt when he realized Mac just didn’t want him to go until he’d written the number on Dennis’ forehead. Remembers watching Mac turn away and go back to his seat.)

“Brian?”

“Yeah!” He says, a chaotic grin trying to etch at his lips. “Let’s head out! See you later Prudence, Dad, Charlie.”

(Calling Frank “dad” makes him feel like a teenager or some shit.)

“They seem sweet,” Mandy comments as they head down the street toward the Range Rover. 

“Oh-- yeah, they’re-- they’re my friends. I mean, family, you know, since Prudence and Dad are… yeah.”

He’s getting worse and worse at this. What the fuck happened to the old Dennis Reynolds, he can’t help but wonder.

“How far away is your house?” She asks.

“Apartment,” he corrects, unlocking the car. “It’s really close. It’s a ten minute drive unless there’s traffic.”

“Ten minutes,” she says, laughing a little. “That’s close? I can drive Brian Jr. to the babysitter and get to work in less than ten minutes.”

“Well-- big city stuff, I guess…” 

He sounds like an idiot.

(He feels like an idiot.)

“He, uh-- he usually this quiet?” Dennis asks as he starts the car a moment later.

“No,” Mandy answers. “Just around people he doesn’t know yet. Right, baby? You’re a little bit shy, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” a little voice comes from the back seat. 

(Pretend it’s not your kid, he reminds himself. Nothing good is going to come of this.)

“Well, it’s-- ha-- I hope he feels more-- you know, comfortable, soon.”

“He will,” Mandy says confidently.

They make uncomfortable small talk for the rest of the drive-- Mandy tells him about her job, and her brother’s messy divorce, and her pet cat who she left with her parents. She doesn’t seem nearly as uncomfortable as Dennis feels. They’ve texted each other, sure, lots, but this is different. Much weirder.

Once he parks the car, he checks his phone to see if Mac texted.

[TEXT FROM DEE]: does she want money? Is she going to come after the bar when she finds out you don’t have any??

He puts his phone away without replying. He’s thought the same things. But Mandy has hardly even mentioned money to him-- she hasn’t asked for child support, hasn’t asked him to chip in for hospital bills or whatever else. He’d sent her a couple hundred bucks a couple days after Brian Jr. was born because he was drunk and feeling generous, and she had accepted the money, but that was the extent of it. 

Once she has the kid and her bag, he locks the car and leads her into the building. Hits the elevator button with his knuckle. Mac always tells him not to touch germy stuff with his fingers. 

“My sister,” he says, voice coming out weird, “Prudence, you know-- she lives in this building too.”

“That’s nice to be nearby,” Mandy says. “In case something happens. Does she live alone?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s really good her brother is right nearby, then.”

“Yeah. Three floors away.”

“I moved to a two-bedroom house down the street from my parents’ place when Brian Jr. was born. I thought I’d get annoyed with how close they are but it’s been real nice. I can just run him over there for an hour if something comes up at work.”

“Right.”

The elevator dings. Opens. He leads her down the hall and digs his keys out of his pocket.

“Mama,” Brian Jr. mumbles.

“Yes, baby?” 

Dennis tunes them out. Doesn’t want to hear the little toddler voice. Opens the door.

“So this is it,” he says as he shuts the door behind her.

He turns toward the kitchen, about to tell her she can put her stuff down in his room-- but he nearly bumps into Mac.

“You’re home,” Dennis says, taking a step back. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Mac says. Dennis watches his dark eyes turn toward Mandy. He realizes Mac has an armful of Dennis’ sheets. Realizes that Mac must have put them through the dryer for him.

“What are you doing with those?” Dennis asks, eyeing them slowly.

“I was going to make the bed for her,” Mac answers quietly. “Is that-- is that okay?”

“--yeah,” Dennis says after a second. “Yeah, uh--”

“Sorry to interrupt, fellas,” Mandy says, shifting Brian Jr. to her other arm, “but you didn’t tell me you had a roommate, Brian.”

“Right,” Dennis says, turning back toward Mandy. “Uh--” He glances to Mac for a second. He knows exactly what Mac wants him to say. And it’s a good idea, Dennis reasons-- it’ll scare her off or some shit. Probably. “Here’s where things get a little bit tricky,” Dennis says, stalling. “Mac and I aren’t just friends. He’s actually my, you know…”

“Husband?” Mac suggests when Dennis trails off.

“H...husband,” Dennis repeats, barely audible. He holds up his left hand. Stupid tin ring is still around his finger, in spite of him wanting to take it off maybe a thousand times.

Mandy’s eyes are narrowed at the two of them. “What?”

“Well, the thing is-- we’ve been married for ten years, but we… have an open relationship,” Dennis says, glancing at Mac again. It’s a sound explanation. Maybe not even a lie. But it prickles the back of his neck. “So he knows I… sleep with women sometimes. But we’re… emotionally involved, so…”

Mandy blinks. “Okay, well... the most important thing is for Brian Jr. to have a relationship with his father,” she says. “And you know, Mac, you seem like a real stand-up fella. Is this why you’ve been so nervous today, Brian? You should have just told me the truth from the beginning!” She’s smiling, laughing a little, stroking Brian Jr.’s hair back. “I guess-- the only thing better than one dad is two dads.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more at golden-geese.tumblr.com :)


	4. defending in suspense

12:47 pm  
A Thursday

Dennis closes the door, twisting the knob as he does so the metal won't click together. He exhales. Turns to face Mac, who's already sitting on the side of his unmade bed. Holds his eyes for a moment, frozen.

“Thanks for making the bed for them,” Dennis finally says.

“I know you hate dealing with fitted sheets and stuff.”

Dennis scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah.”

“Uh-- how long are they staying?”

“Few days.” Unless Mandy is so disgusted by Dennis she changes the tickets.

“Brian Jr. is really cute,” Mac says. “He looks like you. Other than the eyes.”

Dennis almost makes a face. Instead, he just nods once, very slowly-- such a slight amount of movement that he could easily deny nodding at all. 

(Misses the days when, genuinely, he felt nothing. Wishes he could just stay there instead of going back and forth between feeling too much and feeling nothing. Because now he feels like he might explode into dust.)

“You wanna scare her off?” Mac asks, sighing. He leans his back down until he's laying flat. Stares at the ceiling as if he doesn't expect Dennis to reply.

Dennis stares at him for a moment. He has a nice neck. Dennis has always thought so. Nice stubble. Nice arms. Beautiful shoulders. Especially now that he's been working out more. And lips-- he has the nicest lips Dennis has ever seen. 

He remembers himself. Hesitantly, he wanders to Mac's bed and lays down on it next to him.

“Probably best,” he says. “Then stuff can just go back to normal.”

“We could take care of the kid every once in a while. He could come to stay with us sometimes. Maybe.”

Dennis turns his head to look at Mac, but Mac is still staring at the ceiling.

“You think that's a good idea?”

“I dunno, Den. If I were Brian Jr., y’know, I would probably want my dad to…” he trails off.

“Give a shit?” Dennis suggests, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah.”

“Mm.”

He doesn't offer any other comments. Just tries to picture the situation. Tries to imagine himself picking Brian Jr. up from the airport and bringing him to Paddy's. Letting him color in the back office while they serve customers. Imagines telling the gang he can't participate in their latest scheme because he has to take his kid home and make him dinner. Calling Mandy to tell her _he's doing fine, I made him chicken nuggets, he's playing Legos now._

“Den.”

“What.”

“Thanks for telling her we’re married.”

“We are,” Dennis replies, almost annoyed. Maybe thirty percent annoyed.

(He doesn't know what the other seventy percent is.)

“Yeah,” Mac says. “But you didn't have to tell her.”

“I'm wearing a wedding ring. She would have noticed eventually. Even though we got the rings as a joke.”

Mac sits up, rubbing his face, sighing again. “I'm sick of this,” he says. “I didn't get it as a joke. If you did that's… fine. But I didn't.”

Hesitantly, and just for a second, he reaches up and touches Mac's back. “I know you didn't, man,” he says quietly.

“So you want to get rid of her?”

“Yeah,” Dennis says.

“We can make it look like you died,” Mac says. 

“Yeah?”

“I’ll think of something. Don’t worry. I’ll figure it out.”

His ribs hurt. Or something. His lungs. The top of his liver. Whatever. 

His head hurts, too. More clearly. Pressure behind his eyes. The pain tightens, smushing against his thoughts and his forehead bone. It’s been hurting since he chainsmoked in the car for twenty minutes that morning, but it was dull-- now it throbs. He closes his eyes against it.

“You okay, dude?” Mac asks.

Dennis doesn’t reply for a moment. Feels Mac’s thumb between his eyebrows, flattening out the crease that had formed. He didn’t realize how furrowed his brows were. A tiny bit of the pressure releases under Mac’s thumb.

“Fine,” he mumbles. 

_It’s a lot,_ he doesn’t say . _It’s overwhelming,_ he doesn’t say. _Help me figure out what to do. Tell me how to feel like a person._ He doesn’t say anything.

It’s cold. Is the window open? Is there a breeze? Was it always this cold in the room and Dennis just never noticed? Is it because he’s lying still now? Is it because Mac isn’t laying next to him anymore, and his body heat is elsewhere?

“Got a migraine?” Mac asks, speaking quieter, softer, because though they’ve never once discussed it Mac knows inside and out that Dennis is sensitive to sound sometimes. Knows when, exactly, Dennis feels that way. Knows, sometimes, before Dennis does.

“Yeah. A little. It’s fine.”

Soft fingers in his hair. 

“We should get back to work,” Mac says. “Or-- at least I should. Are you hanging with Mandy and the kid for the rest of the day?”

“We didn’t make any plans,” he answers.

“Do you want some Tylenol, dude?”

“Yes,” he says.

“I’ll grab you some.”

He doesn’t open his eyes. Hears the crunch of the door as Mac opens and closes it again. Hears boots against the plasticky flooring; hears Mandy’s voice and Mac’s in the living room. Can’t quite understand what they’re saying. But it’s kind of creepy to hear their voices together-- creepy like an overly-detailed mannequin or an old doll with human hair.

Mac comes back in a moment later. Dennis opens his eyes just in time to see him set a glass of water on the nightstand.

“Drink a little water first, your throat sounds dry,” Mac says.

Dennis sits up. Takes a sip.

“Good. Here you go.” Two chalky white tablets in his palm. He throws them back and swallows with water.

(Considers saying thanks. Doesn’t.)

“Brian Jr. is taking a nap,” he goes on. “Mandy said he was barely keeping his eyes open. Said she wouldn’t mind if we had to go back to the bar. I told her she can stick around and watch TV if she wants to.”

Dennis nods a little. “Okay,” he says. “Okay. Yeah. I guess we should go back to the bar. I’m the only one who knows how to make drinks anyway.”

Not that anyone orders mixed drinks at Paddy’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading :) if you enjoyed it, leave a comment!! i always reply! more at golden-geese.tumblr.com :)


	5. bridge to nowhere

11:47 pm  
A Thursday

He can’t just go to sleep. There’s too much to figure out, too much to think about, too many questions to ask himself-- and he lacks the mental fortitude to even begin the interrogation. So instead he waits until Mandy and Brian Jr. are asleep in his bed. Waits until Mac’s loyalty wears thin; waits until ‘no, I’ll wait for you’ turns into ‘I’m pretty beat, dude, I’m just going to go to bed’. Then he pours maybe four shots of whiskey into a glass and downs it in a few gulps, forcing himself to count to fifty between each one so he won’t gag on it. Chases it with a beer gulped down over a ten or so minute period. Chases that with another shot. Paces around the kitchen for a while, glancing to the closed door of his bedroom, where Mandy and Brian would be sleeping. Plops down on the couch when the walking and alcohol start to make him dizzy, laying on his back, looking at the ceiling fan, watching it go around and around and around. 

Brian Jr. ceiling fan fake name real name Mac North Dakota tin ring fake name ceiling fan real name awkward dinner at Dave & Busters Mandy keeps crayons in her purse what if she comes after the bar fake name fake name real name ceiling fan Mac. 

Spins around his head in a loop, a lazy loop that is somehow also skyrocketing, back and forth and around and around and around until he has to sit up and claw at his face.

Too fast. 

(It’s not that he drank too much. There is no such thing as too much when you’re a Golden God. Just too fast.)

His whole body convulses. He feels frozen, like dry packed dirt and an overripe banana at the same time. He scrambles off the couch. Barely makes it to the bathroom in time to puke in the toilet, shaking, shuddering. Tries to lay down on the floor after; bumps his head on the side of the toilet bowl on his way down. Falls the last handful of inches to the floor.

Doesn’t hear the doors or footsteps or the bathroom light flicking on.

“Dennis, what the fuck, are you okay?”

A hand on his forehead. 

“I don’t have a fucking fever,” he snaps, pulling away from Mac’s hand. He’d closed the door, Dennis notices. Closed it so Mandy wouldn’t hear them, probably. Fuck him. Bless him.

“What’s going on, dude? Holy shit, you’re shivering really hard, should I call 911?”

“No,” Dennis manages. Shoulders shaking so much it hurts. Neck hurts. Head heavy. Chest in knots. Stomach--

He heaves himself over the toilet again. Gags and chokes on nothing.

“Did you… give yourself alcohol poisoning?”

“Yes,” Dennis snaps, leaning against the side of the bathtub, chest heaving with every shallow breath. “Go away.”

“Dennis--”

“Fuck off!”

“No,” Mac says. “Stay there. I’ll be right back.”

As if Dennis can even move. The room is fuzzy around him. Freezing fucking cold. Blurry. Desolate. His teeth clatter.

The light is incredibly fucking bright. So bright it’s unreal. 

Again, he doesn’t hear the door or the footsteps. Just feels Mac wrestling a blanket around his shoulders. Wiping his face with a towel. Putting a straw between his lips. 

“Drink it, okay? Just a little bit. Please.”

He takes a sip and pulls away from the straw.

“How much did you drink?”

“Stop, fucking-- you’re being so loud,” Dennis mutters.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Mac soothes. Dennis wants to throttle him. Imagines grabbing Mac by the shoulders and slamming both of them into the mirror. The mirror breaking into a tiny million little pieces and shambling to the floor in bloody turmoil. He hears the sound in his head and cringes hard against it.

“You must’ve drunk a lot, huh? ‘Cause you weren’t drunk at all when I went to bed forty minutes ago.”

“Stop screaming at me,” Dennis demands, voice coming out shaky and terrible. Mac pulls the blanket tighter around his shivering shoulders. 

“I’m barely whispering, dude,” Mac says. “How come you drank so much so fast?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you too. Let’s go to bed, okay? Drink some more water and brush your teeth.”

“Fuck you,” Dennis just says again.

Mac’s hands on his shoulders. Pulling him so he's sitting upright. Propping him against the wall; angling him toward the bathtub. He turns the water on, a storm inches from Dennis’ head-- 

Mac pokes Dennis’ toothbrush into his mouth.

“You brushed my teeth one time, remember? ‘Cause I was really drunk. You made me sit on the floor in the shower and you brushed ‘em for me even though I was falling asleep. Guess I’m returning the favor.”

Dennis points his dead eyes at Mac. Stares at him so hard it starts to hurt.

“I know you’re worried about the kid thing,” Mac says. “But we’ll figure it out.”

At some point, he evidently opened his mouth. At some point, evidently, his jaw went slack. 

Mac squints at him, brushing Dennis’ back molars. Jabs his gums with the toothbrush.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. Finishes up a moment later. Dennis spits into the bathtub, the action almost triggering his gag reflex and making him puke again. Sloppily, he rinses his mouth with water. Lets Mac wipe his face.

“Don’t you feel a little better now? I did. Y’know. When I was drunk and you brushed my teeth. It made me feel better.”

“Fuck you,” Dennis mumbles. Mac pulls him off the floor. Cinches an arm around his shoulders. Turns off the bathroom light with his knuckle.

“I’m gonna put the trash can by your side in case you need to puke again,” Mac says, nudging Dennis onto the bed. Dennis just sits, hunched forward, staring blankly. He can almost feel the levee breaking in his mind. Can almost taste all the things he was thinking about before. But he’s still drunk enough that he can’t quite hear them. He wants to mortar himself into a wall.

“Drink some more water, okay?” Mac says, holding the cup with the stupid green straw in front of Dennis’ face. Dennis takes another feeble sip to shut Mac up. Knows nothing short of compliance would work.

Lets Mac unbutton his shirt and undo his belt. He’s still shivering. Mac’s hands are warm.

“I can’t take your jeans off for you, bro.”

Sloppily, dizzily, Dennis pulls himself off the bed for a moment and pushes his pants off. Crawls into his side of Mac’s bed in his boxers. 

Mac shuts the light off. Gets in the other side of the bed. Darkness absorbs the room.

“Mac,” he hears himself whisper.

“Yeah, Den?”

“I’m f-fucking freezing.”

“C’mere.”


	6. you wouldn't have to say that you love me

6:59 am  
A Friday 

Didn’t want to go to bed last night, doesn’t want to wake up this morning.

He always naturally wakes up earlier than necessary. Doesn’t know why he even bothers with alarms-- he never ends up needing them.

Mac’s arms are around him. They’re spooning. Gross. Dennis’s hands are tangled up in Mac’s, clutching them to his chest, almost. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t want to.

He’s going to be dodging eggshells until Mandy and Brian Jr. are back in North Dakota. 

Mac is so goddamn warm in the mornings. 

Dennis used to hate falling asleep with someone else in the bed at all, let alone being all tangled up like this. Used to barely tolerate it for the sake of possible morning sex. Used to only let Mac snuggle up against him if they were completely blasted. Doesn’t remember how it came to this point, where waking up with Mac’s chest against his back is normal and fine and comfortable. 

He can either run toward it or run away from it, he realizes. This middle ground he’s been trying to maintain doesn’t work. The line is too fine. 

Sighing, he stretches his fingers for a second before intertwining them through Mac’s more comfortably. Their rings clink together as he situates their hands. ‘Toward’ it is. At least for now.

Really, it’s kind of a miracle that Mac hasn’t ripped his wedding ring off and chucked it out the window by now. That he’s still here, still sleeping all pressed up against Dennis, even though Dennis sprang the ‘I have a kid’ thing on him last minute and said whatever usual mean shit he’d said and got sloppy drunk, leaving Mac to glue him back together. It’s really starting to seem like there’s nothing, absolutely nothing, that would keep Mac away permanently. This is both comforting and terrible. Wonderful and annoying.

He hears Mac inhale slowly. The sound he always makes when he wakes up. Dennis holds his hands tighter-- silently asks Mac to stay put.

A kiss against the back of his neck. His jaw tightens instinctively. He forces himself to loosen it.

At least just for today and tomorrow, until Mandy’s gone, he kind of needs Mac on his side. Doesn’t want to test his theory about Mac’s loyalty.

“You okay?” Mac asks quietly, so close to Dennis’ ear he can feel Mac’s breath. 

“Yeah,” Dennis says dismissively. “Fine.”

“Good. I was worried you’d be hungover.”

“No.”

“You still want to get rid of Mandy?”

Dennis doesn’t answer. Blinks. Catches himself stroking his thumb against Mac’s knuckles. 

“She seems cool,” Mac goes on, voice sleepy and dry. “Doesn’t seem like she wants money or nothin’. She ever ask you for money?”

“No,” Dennis says.

“I guess she just wants Brian to have a relationship with his dad.”

“Guess so.”

“Don’t you want that?”

“I don’t know,” Dennis sighs. “Can we stop with the interrogation?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sorry.”

Dennis holds Mac’s hand to his lips. Thinks about kissing it. Doesn’t. Just sort of weirdly holds it there for a second. 

“Charlie sent me a snapchat last night,” Mac goes on a moment later. “I think he was trying to say he has some new scheme to get back with the waitress.”

“Doubt it’ll work,” Dennis says. Wants to go back to sleep. Wants Mac to shut up. Wants to skip to next week when this is all in the past.

“Yeah, probably not. He’s just gonna keep trying, though, forever.”

“Yeah.”

“He must really love her.”

“...Yeah.”

+

Eventually they get up and shower and go to a cafe for breakfast with Mandy and the kid. While they’re sipping their coffee, it’s decided by someone (Dennis didn’t quite catch who, to be honest-- could have even been himself since he’s autopiloting the whole thing) that he and Mandy should go out to dinner alone to ‘figure some things out’. 

After the plan is made, silence cloaks the table. Mandy breaks off a chunk of blueberry muffin and feeds it to Brian. Dennis vaguely wonders if this is the cafe the waitress is working at right now. Wonders what Charlie’s scheme is.

“Brian, who are we going to get to watch junior while we’re out tonight?” Mandy asks pleasantly. “You think someone in your family could do it?”

“My sister,” Dennis suggests.

Mac fidgets a little. “I can take care of him,” he says. “I mean. It’s easier that way. You won’t have to drop him off anywhere.”

Dennis glances sideways at him. Isn’t like Mac to just volunteer to do stuff.

“That sounds great to me,” Mandy says. “You’re his stepdad, after all! Thanks, Mac.”

(This is a stupid fucked up twisted situation that involves lying and cheating and all the other terrible shit the gang does on a daily basis that normal people don’t do. Why is Mandy so cool with it?)

“Oh, no problem, it’ll be fun,” Mac says. “We’ll, uh…”

He trails off. Dennis raises his eyebrows. Neither of them know what the hell you do with a two year old.

“We’ll hang out,” Mac amends.

“Well, he usually goes to bed around eight, so you won’t have to worry about entertaining him for long,” Mandy says. “I brought some toys along. I’ll leave them out before we go.”

“Great.”

“We were hoping to go see the liberty bell today,” Mandy adds, taking a sip of her coffee. “You two boys want to come along?”

“I gotta take care of some stuff at work,” Mac says. “You gonna go, Dennis?”

“What’d you call him?” Mandy asks, laughing a little bit. “Dennis?”

“Uh, it’s-- just a nickname,” Mac says quickly. “Just a dumb thing I call Brian sometimes. Ha. Dumb old… inside joke. It’s his sub name, you know?”

“Sub name?”

Dennis rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry about it, he’s just joking around, thinks he’s _so funny…”_ Dennis nudges Mac’s ankle with his foot under the table.

“Ha… well… anyway, we were also thinking of going to the zoo.”

“Sounds great,” Dennis says, forcing a smile. “That’ll… that’ll be fun.”

+

The day stretches on forever. The liberty bell. The zoo. The aardvarks. The flamingos. The other families, normal families, probably looking at Dennis and Mandy and Brian Jr. and thinking they’re a normal family too. 

Mandy takes Brian back to the apartment for a nap. Dennis heads over to Paddy’s. The air feels weird-- the only brief respite is when he’s alone in his car, his Range Rover, 80s music playing and Mac’s sunglasses sitting in the cup holder.

He parks. Turns the car off. Stares at the steering wheel for a second. Gets out.

“Where the fuck have you been? We’ve been busy,” Dee bawks at him once he’s inside.

“I was spending time with _my son_ , who came all the way from North Dakota and who will only be here until Sunday, you bird,” he snaps. 

“Oh my god,” she huffs. “You don’t even care about him. Why are you acting like you do?”

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t care about.”

“I’m your twin sister, Dennis, I think I know you pretty well,” she says, tone almost smug. “I think it’s safe to say you don’t care about this kid.”

He shifts. Doesn’t respond. Turns toward Charlie.

“What’s with you and the waitress, man?”

“Wow,” a woman’s voice comes from behind Dennis. “Yeah. Great. Talk about my like I’m not here. You’re an asshole, Dennis.”

He throws his hands up. “Why is everyone attacking me? For the record, I genuinely did not notice that you were standing there.”

“That doesn’t make it better!” The waitress strides over to Charlie, taking his arm. 

(What the fuck did Dennis miss?)

“I don’t-- there’s real things I have to-- where’s Mac?”

“Back office with Frank,” Charlie says. He looks uncomfortable. The love of his life is finally standing next to him, holding onto his arm like she likes him, and he looks uncomfortable?

(Seriously, _what the fuck did Dennis miss?_ )

“Great,” Dennis says, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he heads to the door. Opens it. Sees Mac and Frank tooling around with something.

“Dennis! I got an idea,” Mac says brightly. “It’s a blood pack. You put it under your shirt and then we do a gunshot noise and I press the button at the same time and the blood erupts. Like you got shot in the chest.”

Dennis blinks. Steps back, bumping into the closing door a little. “What?”

“To get rid of the broad,” Frank explains.

“Yeah. So you pretend you’re a CIA agent and Brian LeFevre is some kind of temporary fake identity for this case you’re working. But like, oh no, Mandy, you came at the wrong time, they’ve been closing in on me, we don’t have much time-- oh no! Oh no, I’ve been shot! Mandy! I’m dying! Tell Brian Jr. I love him!” Mac tries (and fails) to roll his eyes back, lolling his tongue out of his mouth in some idiotic dead person face.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“She’ll think you’re dead,” Mac says, only slightly deflated. “And then she’ll go home and you won’t hear from her again. And you won’t have to go to dinner to talk about Brian Jr.”

“I…” Dennis shifts. Holds his chin higher. “Good. Perfect. My name can be Dane Brass.”

Mac’s eyes widen. He grins. “Dude, I love it. Perfect. I figured out how to rig the computer speakers to my phone, so I can just play a really loud gunshot noise when I activate the blood pack. It’ll be perfect. She’ll be so freaked out she’ll just leave.”

“Good. Great.”

“Yeah! What time are you taking her to dinner?”

“Six,” he says. “I’ll… pick her up and bring her to the alley behind the bar… I’ll tell her you’re running late at work so we have to just drop Brian off with you before we go.”

“Awesome. I’ll be on the roof or somethin’. I’ll figure it out.”

“And I’m gonna call you right before and be your CIA general,” Frank says. “I’ll talk real loud so the girl can hear me. I’ll tell you you’re in danger. My name’s General Alcazar Fitzpatrick.” 

Dennis’ brows crinkle for a moment at Frank’s ridiculous name choice, but he lets it go. 

“It’ll totally work, dude,” Mac says. “She’ll never wanna let you near her kid again.”


	7. 'cause i'd already know

5:47 pm  
A Friday

His heart is slamming. It’s the extra caffeine, he reasons. He had three cups of coffee that morning. More than his usual two. It’s that extra cup. It’s caffeine.

“He’s not gonna keep Brian Jr. at the bar, though, is he?” Mandy asks, frowning, as she unbuckles the toddler from his carseat.

“What do you mean?” Dennis asks, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet.

“Well-- it’s a bar, Brian. A little boy shouldn’t be at a bar. It’s illegal.”

“Oh. Yeah. Of course. No. Mac’s gonna take him home. He just had to finish up at the bar so this is easier.”

“He doesn’t have a carseat in his car.”

“He’s gonna take the Range Rover,” Dennis improvises. “The restaurant, it’s just a couple blocks away, so we can walk.” This part is true. Not that he thinks they’ll make it to the restaurant.

She nods slowly. “Okay. That’s alright.”

(She loves her son, Dennis thinks. She wants him to have a dad.)

(Fuck.)

“I just gotta-- the alley, for a second,” he says.

Frank is taking too long. He should have called by now.

“Why are we going in the alley?”

“You know, ha, it’s…” He shifts his feet. Rubs the back of his neck. Avoids his son’s big brown eyes.

“Is everything okay, Brian?”

His phone rings. He shuffles to answer it. 

“Hello.”

“Dane, it’s General Alcazar Fitzpatrick,” Frank practically yells. “You’re in danger. You gotta get outta there. They found you. They know you aren’t really Brian LeFevre. I gotta go, they’re gonna find out I’m warning you-- gotta get outta there!”

He arranges alarm into his features. Lowers his phone.

(Misses flip-phones. What a perfect moment this would be to slam it shut.)

“What’s going on, Brian?”

“All right, listen to me, because we only have a few minutes before they realize they can't hear or see us back here,” Dennis says, channeling his fidgeting into a looking-around-for-spies bit.

She blinks. Adjusts her arms around the toddler so he’s more secure. “What? Who?”

“My name my name isn't Brian LeFevre. My real name is Dane Brass. And I hold top secret government information. Okay? They're after me, that's- that's why everything's been so weird. That's why I haven't been able to speak openly with you. And you and Brian Jr., you'll have to get away from me because it's- it's not safe,” he rushes out in one breath. Looks around more. Shifts so he’s kind of guarding her-- wonders why the fuck he’s subconsciously trying to demonstrate worth to her when the time for that is long past. 

Decides that, no, he wasn’t pretending to guard her to demonstrate worth, he’s doing it to sell this whole thing. Because a normal person would want to protect his child and the mother of his child. 

Because Brian LeFevre is a normal person who doesn’t have an insane relationship with his sexuality or an alcohol thing or borderline personality disorder or a history of banging librarians and maybe having nightmares about it every once in a while or a thing about noises.

“What do you mean, it’s not safe?” Mandy asks, frowning, hand creeping higher on Brian Jr.’s back, holding him closer. 

“Uh, I--”

“Oh my God, Brian! You’re bleeding!”

 

He looks down. Goddamn blood pack has gone off. Without the gunshot. Fuck fuck fuck.

“I’ve been shot!” He clutches at his chest, stumbling backwards.

“I didn’t hear any gunshot--” Mandy is already backing away, glancing at her son and then back at Dennis.

The gunshot goes off.

“Oh, well yeah-- that was the sound of it. Normally you'd you'd hear it before you see the blood, but, uh, not in this case.” He stumbles more, hitting the opposite wall of the alley. “Run, Mandy, oh God, I’m dying-- you have to run and not ever look back-- or try and contact me, ‘cause that… that would be dangerous--”

The rest of the gang comes out of nowhere, gasping and covering their mouths like idiots.

“Oh no, they got Dennis!” Charlie yells.

“Dane,” Mac corrects.

“Dane! They got Dane!”

“We gotta get him to a hospital,” Frank says, grabbing Dennis’ arm. “Not a regular hospital, though, ‘cause technically he’s not supposed to exist--”

Dennis glances over to Mandy. She looks concerned, but also something else. 

He carries on. Buckles to the ground. Droops his eyes closed.

“Are you finished?”

His chest pangs. He doesn’t reply.

“Oh, come on, Brian, Dane, Dennis, whatever your name is-- you can open your eyes now. I know you didn’t really get shot.”

Hesitantly, he opens his eyes. Braces himself.

“You big city folks sure like to complicate things,” Mandy signs, stroking Brian Jr.’s hair out of his eyes. “Look, all I wanted was for Brian Jr. to have a father, but we don't want to be around a man who doesn't want to be around us. So, I guess we'll just be getting back to North Dakota now. Okay, now, you want to come on up here and say good-bye to Brian Jr.?”

He blinks. His heart pangs again. Lungs tighten. He stands up.

“Sure,” he says, voice coming out too quiet. 

She hands him the toddler. He feels the kid’s weight in his arms. Finally looks at his big brown eyes. “Hey, buddy,” he says, now speaking quietly on purpose, trying to make it so nobody else would hear him-- “uh… goodbye, and, uh, you know, be good for your mom and stuff, uh--”

The kid is staring at him. Unsure of what else to do, Dennis just kind of stares back.

“You done?” Mandy asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Dennis says. Blinks. Hands his son back to her.

“Can you take us back to your apartment so we can get our stuff and leave?” She asks plainly.

A knot in his throat. He clears it uncomfortably. “Yeah. Uh-- I’ll be… back, later, I guess, guys-- uh… yeah.” 

His hands feel cold. Fingers feel fidgety. He wants to slam his head against the concrete walls or something. 

Instead, he follows Mandy back to his car and waits as she buckles Brian Jr. into the carseat. 

They get in. He starts the car. Pulls out of the parking spot. Starts to autopilot home.

Street. Green light. Street. Red light. He stops.

“What’s your real name?” She asks. 

“Dennis,” he says. “Uh. Dennis Reynolds. And my sister… her name’s Dee, not Prudence.”

“Why did you lie to me about that?”

“It’s sort of. A habit. I guess.”

“Giving women fake names when you sleep with them?”

He bites his lip. Green light. Foot on the gas. “Uh-huh.”

“Well, I don’t like being lied to,” she says, matter-of-factly. “Mind telling me what else was a lie?”

“Uh… I didn’t… my friends didn’t know about you and the baby.”

“Your friends? You mean your family?”

He bites his lip again. Harder. Un-bites it a second later to speak. “Yeah. Family. I guess. I mean-- Dee’s my sister, that’s what you mean, right?”

“Your dad and your partner were involved too. Didn’t you say you’re married? You’re wearing a wedding ring and all.”

He feels sick. He could puke. He flicks on his turn signal. “Frank,” he begins, “isn’t my dad. I mean-- we thought he was but around ten years ago we found out he isn’t. But he raised us. And stuff.”

“Sounds like he’s still kind of your dad, then,” she sighs.

He glances at her for a split second. “He wasn’t around,” he hears himself say.

“What?”

“My dad. He was always in Vietnam opening new factories or if he was in Philly he was at work. My mom wasn’t around much either. Always going on trips with her friends and shit. We had nannies and stuff. A new one every year or so. Sometimes less. ‘Cause we were… obnoxious kids, I guess.”

“Okay.”

“And… I have borderline personality disorder,” he says. Doesn’t mean to be telling her all this. Doesn’t know why he is. 

“You do?” She asks.

 

“Yeah.”

“Do you take medication for it?”

“Yeah.” Another lie. He amends it. “I mean… I’m supposed to. I do a lot of the time. But sometimes I don’t.”

“You should take your medication,” she points out listlessly. Her tone isn’t unkind, but she clearly doesn’t care anymore. He can almost feel the disdain she clearly holds for him now.

“I know,” he says. “That’s what Mac always says.”

“Is that another lie?” She asks.

He parks the car. Turns it off. Doesn’t move to get out. Neither does she.

“Is what a lie?”

“You being married to Mac. You have separate bedrooms. Are you just roommates?”

He sighs. Closes his eyes for a second. “It’s complicated.”

“I just want to know exactly how much you lied to me,” she says. “Kinda feel like you owe me that.”

“Okay, alright,” he sighs. “Yeah. We’re married. Legally. But… we just found out. Not that long ago. Because… ten years ago, my sister and Mac and I were in Connecticut on the day they legalized gay marriage. Dee dared us to get married. We were all really drunk. So we got married. I blacked out. Had no idea. Then we got this tenth anniversary congrats card in the mail a couple months ago so we… got rings and stuff. As a joke. But Mac’s gay for real.”

“So you… aren’t really a couple?”

“No,” he says quickly. “We’re… look, we’ve been best friends since high school, and roommates since I graduated college, and we just sort of… started doing physical stuff at some point. But only when we were drunk. Then it became, like-- just a thing we did even if we weren’t. Drunk, that is. And it… we… look, yeah, I guess we’re together.”

She’s quiet for a moment. He hazards a glance at her. Her eyebrow is raised, her brown eyes a little dulled. “You guys sure have a complicated thing going on here,” she says. “Kinda messed up, if you ask me. Sounds like you two should sit down and talk it out.”

That’s absolutely not within the realm of things they do, but whatever.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “You and Brian deserve better.”

Mandy sighs. Shakes her head. “I don’t know what it’s like to not have your parents around, but it sounds pretty sad. I don’t want that for my son. So I just want to be sure. I’m gonna ask you one last time-- and whatever your answer is, is final, and you won’t hear anything else about it from me. Okay?”

Dennis nods. Barely.

“So are you sure? We can go back home, and I’ll stop sending you pictures and updates and you’ll never have to worry about us again. Or I can keep sending pictures and updates and we can arrange for visits and all that.”

His chest has been tight all day. His head foggy. His hands twitchy. He takes a breath. Glances at his son in the rearview mirror. “I… I want to be his dad,” he admits quietly. Swallows hard. Nods a couple times. “Yeah. I want to be his dad.”

“Okay,” she says, nodding too. “Okay. Good. I’m glad.”

She opens the car door. Fumbling with his door, he follows suit. Watches her take Brian out of the carseat.

“Okay, Dennis,” she says. “Let’s go upstairs so you can change into a new shirt without fake blood on it. Then let’s see if your husband will still stay with Brian so we can go and have that dinner and talk about how this is going to work. Like grown-ups.”

He nods.

“With no lies,” she adds as they head into the building.

“No lies,” he repeats quickly. “Yeah. I… thanks, Mandy.”

She smiles softly. "Sure."

He fumbles with his phone. Types a text to Mac.

[TEXT TO MAC]: Can you come home to watch Brian after all? They're not leaving. I changed my mind. I'm going to be his dad.

Mac responds almost immediately.

[TEXT FROM MAC]: You did?? Good. I'm glad dude. On my way. 

He exhales. "He's coming. He'll still take care of Brian."

"Great."

His phone lights up. Another text.

[TEXT FROM MAC]: I think you made the right call Den.

He reads it twice. Nods a little bit. Types a response as they wait for the elevator.

[TEXT TO MAC]: Yeah. Thanks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a few lines of dialogue are taken directly from dennis' double life!

**Author's Note:**

> follow me at golden-geese.tumblr.com for more :) please leave kudos and a comment if you liked this!! i reply to and appreciate every single one so much!!!!


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